


Shared Heartbeats

by flopyxing



Series: Domestic Vampire!AU [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-07 23:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12852135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flopyxing/pseuds/flopyxing
Summary: A hunting trip goes awry.





	Shared Heartbeats

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series but prior knowledge isn't needed. Please heed the warnings and read the tags carefully. Thank you to my beta, [yixingsaun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yixingsaun/profile) and the FYFF mods for setting up this fest.

 

Deep within an abandoned factory in the industrial area somewhere on the outskirts of the city, the quietness of the night is shattered by a loud roar of anguish. The sound bounces against the incomplete shells of the surrounding buildings, left unfinished when the company went bankrupt long ago. A man stumbles and collapses on a concrete rooftop, his built so small from malnourishment that there is barely a sound when he hits the floor. He pushes himself up and scrabbles at the silver arrow that had pierced through his lung. Helplessly, he realizes that the skin around the arrow is corroding, his borrowed blood bubbling even as it spurts from his wound in short bursts. Sobbing and gasping for precious breath, he is too distracted by the pain to realize that the pure silver broadhead is expendable, fashioned as such precisely to prevent prey like him from pulling the arrow out.

 

Zhang Yixing rarely feels pity for his prey, but just this once he decides to put the vampire out of his misery. It takes him less time to let another arrow fly than the time it takes for the vampire’s high-pitched pleas of mercy to taper off into silence. He waits until the body stops spasming before carelessly flipping it on its back with the toe of his boot. Yixing squats down, carefully laying his compound bow to the side before bending over the body to check for any signs of pulse or breathing. Satisfied to find none, Yixing begins to strip the body of the arrows. He’s quick and efficient from years of practice but still takes care not to do more damage to the corpse than he already has.

 

Yixing's hands are gloved for protection against the silver, even though it no longer burns him. He can't help it, having lived in fear of the cursed effects of the metal on his kind longer than he’s had the protection of his mate’s blood. Yixing hurriedly gives his arrows a cursory wipe on his pants before storing them inside his quiver. He doesn’t have the luxury to be thorough right now.

 

“That’s the last one. Renjun, tell the cleaners we’re done,” Yixing says into his earpiece.

 

“Copy that, Team Leader,” Huang Renjun responds from their surveillance van. “T-minus 3 hours, 49 minutes, and 38 seconds to sunrise. You guys took too long this time but overall, good work.” The other team members chime in their affirmatives.

 

“Alright kids, let’s go home.” Just as Yixing’s about to disconnect, he hears Krystal Jung click her tongue in irritation and light chuckles from the rest of the team. “My apologies, Princess,” Yixing says, smirking when he only receives a huff of annoyance in response. As per her wishes, the team tries to not let Krystal's status as a Second-Generation get to them. It's easier since she's been disowned by the royal family for some time now. More often than not, they end up teasing her too much.

 

“I’m en route to the rendezvous point,” Yixing continues as he picks up his bow and stands up. “Over and out.”

 

 **_Shifu_** , Renjun says, switching from English to Mandarin.

 

Yixing’s lips pull into a frown. Two of their team members don’t share a blood bond with the rest so they try to refrain from communicating telepathically. Assuming that it must be an emergency, Yixing lets it slide.  ** _What is it?_  **

 

**_Hansol hasn’t responded to our comms so I tried to get in touch with him privately. It's probably because he’s out of my range. I asked Ten to check up on him since he's the closest to Hansol's last known location. But it might be faster if you call him instead._ **

 

 **_Alright,_ ** Yixing tells Renjun. He redirects his concentration, feet already hurrying over to where he last sensed Hansol. As a sire, Yixing’s connection to his progenies is stronger so it makes sense that Renjun would turn to him. At least, that’s how it should be. For some reason, it feels as though Yixing keeps running into an invisible mental wall. **_Jun, something’s—_ **

 

“Guys, be careful!” Renjun interrupts him through their comms. “I’m picking up on a weird reading!”

 

At his warning, Yixing skids to a stop. He slowly pivots on his heel, eyes desperately searching the dark landscape for the incoming threat. There are too many blind spots that have turned the favor to the enemy side.

 

“Huh? I thought we got all of them?” Kim Seungwan naively says. Yixing grimaces. He's starting to regret letting the most inexperienced member go off on her own. Before he can ask her where she is, an intense pain suddenly shoots into his head. Yixing falls to his knees with a cry and unintentionally lets go of his precious bow to clutch at his head, the weapon clattering loudly on the ground. Calming himself down, Yixing tries to concentrate on all the bonds he shares with his progenies to look for the source of the pain. It barely takes Yixing a second to focus on Ten with the way his bond is pulsating crazily from the whirlwind of strong emotions.

 

Yixing wants to rush to where Ten is but he’s getting more anxious about Seungwan’s safety.  _Ten!? Ten!? What is it? What’s happening?_

 

 _Hansol!_ Ten screams  _He’s dead!_

 

Yixing wants to tell him to calm down and explain that that’s impossible, that he can still feel his bond with Hansol. But he's falling into Ten's consciousness where everything that Ten is sensing floods into Yixing's mind and tells him otherwise. Ten is standing in front of a path leading to a dead end. He's desperately pounding his fists at a barrier of purplish blue light. Beyond the barrier is the unmistakably headless body of Jin Hansol, his head lying in a pool of blood by Ten’s feet.

 

Yixing starts to get up but on reflex, throws himself into a forward roll. He avoids the blurry figure crashing down from the sky just in time, the impact leaving a small crater on the concrete roof. Instead of picking himself up, Yixing flips over and sweeps his feet in an arc to knock the figure off balance. It doesn’t do Yixing any good other than to buy some time before the figure lunges at him with hands wrapped in purple and blue flames.

 

“Everyone, it’s not a vampire, it’s a witch! Krystal, I need you here right now! You’re the only one who has a chance to kill this bitch. Renjun, call off the cleaners, tell them it’s not safe. Seungwan, get back to the van, don’t argue with me! No wait, go find Ten. Ten, the moment the barrier disappears, I want you and Seungwan to get Hansol to the van,” Yixing barks into the earpiece as he kicks and throws punches at the witch. He knows that he won’t be able to do much damage but it's the best he can do to prevent her from getting enough time to cast a spell.

 

The flames illuminate her face and help Yixing see that her gaunt features are twisted into an ugly mixture of rage, agony, and most importantly, fear. Her movements are reckless and her attacks uncoordinated. She’s clearly not used to hand-to-hand combat. A plan forms in Yixing’s head. If his guess is right, it should give him a fighting chance while he waits for Krystal to swoop in and save his ass.

 

“Did you seriously mate with a walking corpse? That's disgusting!” Yixing taunts, almost forgetting to speak in Korean. He extends his claws, ripping the tips of his gloves in the process. “You should thank us, you know. We did you a favor.”

 

The witch shrieks as she barrels towards Yixing. He takes advantage of her momentum and catches her by surprise when his claws extend all the way until they puncture her chest with a sickening squelch, not stopping until they break free out her back like grotesque wings. The spray of blackish blood forces them to shield their eyes. Unfortunately, for Yixing, his attempt at stalling doesn’t last long. He lowers his free hand and sees the witch's mouth stretching into a wicked smile. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the tables have turned. Yixing starts to sheath his claws to dodge her next attack but he’s not quick enough. He only has time to curse before he’s knocked backward by an explosion. Pain tears through every part of his body in surges until it all becomes too much for him and he blacks out.

 

When he blinks awake, Yixing decides that he wants to talk to the witch and have her finish the job. He can’t feel his fingers, or his legs, or any part of his body other than the excruciating pain somewhere below his chest. He hears panicked voices but he can’t focus on any one of them. He’s about to open his mouth when a familiar face swims into his blurry vision.

 

**“Shifu! Shifu can you hear me?”**

 

Yixing winces at piercing volume of Renjun's shrill voice. **“Ren—”** Yixing’s reedy gasp is cut off by a shriek of pain. Moving was a mistake and it feels as though he's being stabbed by hundreds of cursed knives, a punishment Yixing had to go through once and which he promised himself would not happen again. The voices grow louder and more confusing, and it’s not helping Yixing at all.

 

What’s happened to him? Where is he? Fuck why does everything  _hurt_!? Just as he’s about to scream for a second time, he feels a steady grip on his bicep grounding him before he lapses into a bout of hysteria. 

 

**“Shifu, if you can hear me please nod. Okay, good. Now, listen to me very closely. A significant portion of your abdomen has been blown to pieces. Your spine and lungs are still intact, but your ribs are broken and you literally have a gaping hole—”**

 

 **“What the fuck! Just kill me now Renjun! Kill me now!”** Yixing begs, unable to bear the reality of his pain. He can’t think of anything beyond wanting it all to stop, and death sounds like the best choice right now.

 

**No, no, Shifu stay with me. Forget what I said. All you need to know now is that you’re injured and your body can’t regenerate fast enough—**

 

Regenerate. Right, he’s immortal. He can’t actually die but there’s a way to end this pain. **“Jong...dae,”** Yixing chokes out, coughing wetly and spraying blood all over himself.

 

**“No, we won’t make it in time. Unless..unless you drink Seungwan-meimei’s blood.”**

 

No. He can’t do that to Jongdae. He’d rather die. Yixing doesn’t have the strength to even move his head but he hopes that his desperate expression is enough for Renjun to understand his refusal. But something's been bothering him. Yixing concentrates and realizes that he can feel warm drops of water dripping onto his skin.

 

 **“Please, Shifu. You have to!”** Renjun pleads, finally looking and sounding like a teenager. Yixing cries along with him, not just from the physical pain, but from the overwhelming grief Renjun and somewhere close by, Ten, carry within themselves. In his pain, he forgot his responsibilities, forgot that he no longer lives for himself. He needs to get a fucking grip.

 

Yixing locks onto Renjun’s tear-filled eyes and resolutely promises himself that after this, his loved ones will never have to cry because of him.

 

 **“Do it,”** he grits out.

 

* * *

 

An all-too-familiar voice startles Kim Jongdae awake from his nightmare. Sweating and shaking, he pats Yixing’s side of their mattress to check if he’s alive and safe. Panic rises up his throat until he remembers that Yixing is away on a hunting trip. Feeling confused and a little bit scared, it takes Jongdae a moment to realize that the voice that woke him up was just his favorite song set as his ringtone. Jongdae glances at the screen to check the time and the caller ID before quickly looking away, the light too bright for his tired eyes to handle.

 

Fingers still trembling, Jongdae swipes at the screen to accept the call. He wets his dry lips with his tongue and smacking them together. “Hello?” he croaks.

 

“Oppa!” Seungwan says, sounding oddly high strung and shocking the sleepiness out of Jongdae. “In ten minutes—”

 

“Four,” corrects another voice, slightly faint but no less urgent.

 

“—four minutes, we’ll be at your place. I need you to open the door immediately, no questions asked.”

 

“What? Wan-ah, what are you talking about? Aren’t you guys supposed to be—”

 

“I said no questions!” Seungwan screeches before hanging up on him.

 

Jongdae winces and rubs at his poor ear. He genuinely believed that by the age of twenty-five, his twin sister would have already matured, but as it turns out, he had set his expectations much too high. In any case, what’s going on? Yixing and his little gang of hunters aren’t supposed to be back until the day after tomorrow. Not that Jongdae would complain about Yixing coming home early. He just doesn’t like last minute changes. And what’s up with Seungwan? She hates visiting their dingy apartment, or ‘pigsty’ as she calls it when it’s just the two of them. With the way Seungwan tiptoes around him, anyone would think that she's the one Yixing is dating. If  _dating_ is even the right word for it.

 

Jongdae debates with himself like a pedant as he trudges to the living room. Grogginess aside, he still feels sick from the nightmares even if he can’t remember anything beyond losing Yixing. He’s about to flop onto the couch when the doorbell rings once. He’s pretty sure it hasn’t even been two minutes but he’s willing to let it slide since Seungwan is smart enough not to abuse the old doorbell. Just as the thought crosses his mind, he hears her rap at the door impatiently and rolls his eyes.

 

The moment Jongdae opens the door, the sickeningly sweet and metallic smell of blood hits him hard. His eyes automatically fall on Yixing who is wrapped up tightly in a piece of black tarp. Despite being carried in the thin arms of a teenage boy, Yixing looks so small and delicate. His expression is relaxed and Jongdae would have thought he was dead if he couldn’t feel their bond pulsating joyfully at their reunion.

 

Jongdae silently directs his sister and the boy, oh it’s Renjun, to the bedroom where they lay Yixing down on the mattress. He doesn’t argue when they refuse to unwrap the tarp, doesn’t even ask what happened. What he does is show Renjun a mental list of things he needs from the kitchen and where they are. Then, knowing that Seungwan carries a hunting knife with her, he instructs her to give it to him and put a pillow under Yixing’s head.

 

Satisfied that Yixing’s head is tilted sufficiently and his mouth is open wide enough, Jongdae breathes in deeply and counts to ten. He’s scared to hurt himself to that extent but right now, he’s more scared of losing Yixing. With one smooth stab, he cuts his left hand’s radial artery with the knife and bites back a scream. His blood spurts uncontrollably, splattering everywhere but Yixing’s mouth until Jongdae bends over to put his wrist between Yixing’s teeth.

 

Jongdae’s never had to do something like this before: bleed himself out as fast and as much as possible without hurting a nerve or a tendon. He’s only able to do it calmly and efficiently by disassociating and relying on the memory of Yixing teaching him what to do if and when he’s unable to drink from Jongdae himself. Jongdae wishes there was a better way to do this. He wishes that there was a special hospital for vampires. He wishes that he was a medical practitioner with the tools to perform a more efficient blood transfusion. Instead, he has to make do with this crude method.

 

He knows that he can’t stay in this position for long without cramping, but he can’t tell how long it’ll take for Yixing’s body to heal itself enough for him to wake up. “You guys should leave,” Jongdae tells the two vampires. “It’s almost sunrise.”

 

Renjun shakes his head as he arranges the things he retrieved from the kitchen in a neat pile within Jongdae’s reach. “We’re not leaving Shifu until we can make sure he’s okay. Besides, the rest have already left. We wouldn't be able to get to the bunker in time,” he says, handing Jongdae an uncapped bottle of blood replenishing potion.

 

Jongdae heaves a sigh and accepts the bottle as graciously as he could. He knocks back the potion and grimaces at the bitter taste. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he tells them, “Fine. Make yourself at home, I guess.”

 

After they’ve sun-proofed the apartment, Seungwan and Renjun end up borrowing the shower and Jongdae’s clothes. Neither of them listens when Jongdae tells them to get some sleep. Instead, they stubbornly keep watch, Renjun over Yixing and Seungwan over Jongdae.

 

When his alarm rings, Jongdae curses under his breath. It had totally slipped his mind that he has work today. At least it's a Friday and he doesn’t have school tomorrow. He wouldn’t cause too much trouble by calling in sick. The white lie comes true when Renjun decides that enough time has passed for Yixing’s wound to close up and that they should clean him up and redress the wound. Seeing Yixing’s badly mauled body and the residue of his spilled guts is enough to make Jongdae violently sick and weep uncontrollably for what feels like hours. He could hardly believe them when they tell him that Yixing is healing at an extraordinarily fast rate.

 

The blood loss combined with the mental and emotional fatigue almost makes Jongdae faint a few times if it weren’t for his sister and his brother-of-sorts. At regular intervals, they remind Jongdae to take breaks and even cooked simple meals for him. The small apartment stays silent the whole day because they're too choked up from anxiety while waiting for Yixing to gain consciousness.

 

Sometime after the sun has set, Yixing stirs awake. “Oh, thank god. Thank you, thank you,” Jongdae whispers. He pushes back Yixing’s fringe to kiss his forehead. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” he asks, peppering Yixing's face with light kisses as he drags his lips down to Yixing’s. 

 

“Exhausted,” Yixing croaks. His breathing is slow, almost lethargic and his eyes unfocused, but he’s alive and awake. That’s all Jongdae’s been praying for.

 

Feeling slightly hysterical, Jongdae chuckles into his mouth. “ _You’re_ exhausted? My darling, I don’t think you actually know what that word means,” he says, punctuating every few words with a quick but firm kiss. He climbs over Yixing, careful not to press their bodies together. He licks into Yixing’s mouth then sucks on his tongue, effectively preventing Yixing from replying. The metallic taste of his blood is strong but not distracting. If anything, the kiss makes him feel heady. Jongdae’s dimly aware of his still bleeding wrist and the impatient vibes emanating off of Renjun. But right now, he couldn’t give a fuck beyond running his hands through Yixing’s hair, tugging at them just enough to pull sweet sounds out of Yixing. Once he’s satisfied with the way they’re both panting heavily, Jongdae stops and leans his forehead against Yixing's. He doesn't move away much, the distance between them close enough for their nose to brush.

 

“I love it when you call me darling. Remember the first time you called me that? It was a dream come true. Maybe there’s a bright side to almost dying,” Yixing says very slowly, his eyes glittering and full of adoration. Jongdae can't help but beam at him.

 

“Well, next time you wanna die, come to me and only me,” he threatens, still smiling happily. “I’m the only one who can make your dreams come true.” Embarrassed by how the cheesy words come so easily to him and also to wipe away any stray tears, Jongdae pushes himself away from Yixing.

 

Renjun takes it as his cue to sit by Yixing’s head so rather than awkwardly listen in on a conversation he doesn’t understand, Jongdae decides to leave them alone. “Want Oppa to make you a cup of tea?” he asks Seungwan when he notices her following him to the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for an answer and just grabs the only two mugs they have from the dish rack.

 

Seungwan leans against the fridge with her arms crossed over her chest. “That’d be nice, thanks,” she says offhandedly as Jongdae heads to the sink with the electric kettle. “More importantly Oppa, you want some help with that or are you waiting for Yixing to return the favor?” she says, gesturing at Jongdae’s cut with her chin.

 

Jongdae blinks slowly at her. He wonders why she’s grinning like an idiot then slowly, her words and the connotations they carry begin to click. “Ugh, no, it just slipped my mind,” he says, with a nervous chuckle. Jongdae hurriedly turns off the tap and puts the kettle on before offering her his bleeding hand, pointedly avoiding her leering gaze. “Please and thank you,” he mumbles under his breath.

 

Experience prepares Jongdae for the sharp sting when Seungwan’s fangs graze his skin and he nervously anticipates the full-body shivers that never comes. To his surprise, it takes her about two seconds to coat his cut with her saliva before she’s pulling away and wiping her mouth. “That’s it?” he asks, eyes flitting back and forth between his steadily healing but still very bloody hand and his twin’s questioning expression. His only reference point is Yixing and his lover usually takes ages. Yixing always spoils Jongdae with attention, sucking and lapping up all traces of Jongdae’s blood like it’s more precious than gold. Oh. _Ohhh_. Oh shit.

 

Seungwan tilts her head to the side. “Yeah, what did you...expect...?” She squints at him suspiciously. “Um. Oppa...why...? What’s wrong with you?”

 

“Nothing!” Jongdae replies, inwardly cringing at the way his voice cracks. He's blushing so hard he can actually feel his face burning up. He can’t say that he only just realized that when Yixing does it, it’s foreplay! Of course, just thinking it is enough for his twin to read his mind and her expression twists horribly in disgust. “Oh, ew, Oppa!” she groans as she smacks him repeatedly on his shoulder.

 

“The tea!” Jongdae squawks. “Oh wait, the water’s not done yet… _Anyways_ ,” he claps their hands together to stop her slaps. “Wan-ah, thanks so much for staying. I don’t know how I could’ve handled this by myself.”

 

Seungwan exaggerates her facial expression even more at his terrible attempt at changing the subject. “I couldn’t leave remember?" she says, shaking off Jongdae's hold. "But don’t mention it. If there’s anything I can do to help him, I would.”

 

“Awww, my little sister is such a good girl!” Jongdae jokes weakly. Five years have already passed since Seungwan’s traumatic turning but because she hates talking about it, Jongdae still doesn't know how to react when the topic comes up. Thankfully, Seungwan is willing to play along.

 

“Only by five minutes and you never let me forget that,” she says with a pout.

 

Jongdae wraps his arms around her and slowly strokes her hair. They jump slightly at the whistling of the kettle but mostly ignore it. “I’m always thankful that you let him help you back then, Wan-ah,” he whispers. Seungwan hugs him back and only hums in agreement before burrowing her head into Jongdae's shirt. Jongdae knows that she’s trying hard to keep her emotions under control so when Renjun enters the kitchen, he lets her stay in his arms longer.

 

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Renjun says looking genuinely apologetic. Jongdae notices that his eyes and nose are red but he doesn’t comment on it, offering to make him tea instead. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I only wanted to thank you before I leave.”

 

“So soon?” Jongdae asks at the same time Seungwan shoves him aside and says, “Should I come with?” Jongdae protests as he wipes away his sister’s tears with the sleeves of his hoodie. They’ve had a long day and immortal or not, should really get proper rest. But Renjun explains while he does appreciate the thought, he has a lot of things to take care of. And if Seungwan would like to help, Renjun would appreciate it very much.

 

Disgruntled, Jongdae agrees. He understands that some things just can’t be helped. But there’s one thing he’d like to clarify. “Sorry, I’m not sure if I heard you right the first time. Funeral preparations?”

 

* * *

 

When Jongdae returns to their bedroom, Yixing pauses in the middle of scratching his scabs.  His bandages have been tossed to the side in a wet heap and Jongdae eyes them with a scowl. The shadows of exhaustion sketched across his face makes Jongdae look more upset than Yixing is sure he really feels, but it’s enough to make his heart twinge in guilt.

 

"I'm pretty much healed so..." His words trail off, or more accurately, disintegrates under Jongdae’s furious glare. Yixing feels a bit embarrassed for failing to even justify his actions and sheepishly tries again. "Darling, don't look at me like that. It's just so itchy and look, I don't even need them anymore!" True enough, his scabs are falling off in flakes, revealing patches of reddish new skin. It looks ugly and stretched so Yixing tries to cover it up with his hands.

 

"Hmm? Is it really completely healed?" Jongdae asks, kneeling beside him and moving Yixing’s hands away. Jongdae’s fingertips skim ever so lightly over his torso but the touch is enough to make Yixing's breath hitch.

 

"Yeah," he says quietly, intently watching Jongdae and giving in to the urge to stroke his cheek. He gently traces the shadows under Jongdae’s left eye with a thumb back and forth as if he could magically make them disappear. Jongdae leans into his touch and makes to press a kiss on Yixing's palm when instead, he suddenly pinches Yixing's side.

 

"You’ve lost the right to call me 'darling' after getting yourself almost killed!" Jongdae hisses under his breath, the venom in his words strong enough to be heard over Yixing's howl of pain. "You're going to have to do more to get back that privilege. Maybe start off with a goddamn apology?"

 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Jongdae," Yixing whimpers pathetically, curling into himself and pawing at Jongdae's grip uselessly. Mercifully, Jongdae lets him go, but the hurt in his eyes tells Yixing that Jongdae's pain runs far deeper than his own.

 

"Don't ever do that again," Jongdae says softly. "Don't ever...Yixing..." His voice breaks into a wet sob. Yixing’s heart sinks as Jongdae hides his face behind his hands. Failing to come up with the right words, Yixing silently pulls Jongdae down and holds him close.

 

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, repeating the words in between pressing kisses on top of Jongdae's head. He blinks and tears start to fall from his eyes in a slow but steady stream. They're tears of relief and gratitude towards a higher power Yixing doesn't believe in for giving him another shot at life. But they're also tears of grief and regret. Yixing tries not to let his thoughts wander beyond what he has here and now, even if it's impossible when there's a gaping hole in his soul where Hansol's presence used to be.

 

By the time Jongdae quiets down, Yixing's so emotionally worn out that he finds himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He can only give a shadow of a smile when Jongdae lifts his head from Yixing’s chest and sighs. “Let’s get you in the shower. Then you can sleep comfortably.” Yixing doesn’t argue and lets Jongdae pull him up only to flop into his arms.

 

“Yixing,” Jongdae chides even as he pats Yixing’s back fondly. “Come on, hurry up. I want to throw out your pants along with that damn tarp.”

 

“Is this a new way of saying you want to jump in the shower with me?” Yixing asks with a smirk, lewdly licking his lips as he pushes down his ruined pants and crumples it into a ball. He expects Jongdae to deadpan at him like he always does but he suspiciously stays silent. Yixing’s about to ask what’s wrong when he notices the look of arousal written all over Jongdae’s face as his eyes rake Yixing’s body up and down.

 

Pulled by an unknown force, Yixing steps closer until their bodies are pressed against each other. Wordlessly and without taking his eyes off of Jongdae's heated stare, Yixing undresses him. He takes care not to rush even though there’s nothing more he’d like to do than that. Jongdae has long made it clear that he doesn’t appreciate Yixing tearing his clothes to shreds, sex or no. Then, as if a switch has been flipped, they roughly pull each other close for a searing kiss. Indecisiveness mixed with desperation has them struggling with choosing to either focus on the way their lips and tongues dance or the electricity that stings them with each press and slide of skin on skin. They stumble blindly towards the bathroom, Jongdae’s clothes thrown to the floor like a haphazard trail of breadcrumbs. Yixing and Jongdae giggle into each other’s mouths when they rattle the glass walls of their shower stall with the force of their intertwined bodies. But their good mood abruptly ends when Jongdae accidentally shoves Yixing right into the shower knob.

 

“Ow, ow, ow!” Yixing yelps, arching his back in pain.

 

“Fuck, sorry! Oh my god, maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” Jongdae says, chewing on his lips as he nervously rubs Yixing’s back. Yixing’s hiss morphs into a displeased growl of protest. He surges forward and cups Jongdae’s face with his hands, shutting him up with a long and deep kiss.

 

Yixing brings one hand down to grab Jongdae’s, directing him to wrap his fingers around Yixing’s already fully erect dick. “You want me to take care of this all by myself?” he whispers, Pleased with Jongdae's drunk expression, Yixing drags his lips along Jongdae’s jaw to his ear where he catches the pierced lobe in his mouth. Not for the first time, he wishes that body modification wasn’t frowned upon in schools because not only do earrings enhance Jongdae’s beauty, it drives Jongdae wild when Yixing plays with them with his tongue. Yixing makes do without, tugging at his earlobe between his teeth then soothing the sting with luxuriously slow licks and sucks. This close, he can feel Jongdae shiver and groan. His own cock is rubbing against the hands stroking Yixing’s, messily smearing warm and wet precome in the process. Yixing lets go of Jongdae’s earlobe to chuckle at his reaction. “Keep doing that, baby,” he urges, groaning appreciatively when Jongdae strokes him faster.

 

“Like this?” Jongdae asks, twisting his wrist on a pull up then sliding the pad of his thumb back and forth on the slit of Yixing's cockhead. Knees weak and panting, Yixing leans his forehead against Jongdae’s shoulder and closes his eyes to focus on the way Jongdae is now rubbing circles on his head. He regrets it immediately when Jongdae uses his free hand to reach behind him and turns on the showerhead at full blast.

 

“This how you treat your invalid master!?” Yixing splutters in shock. He stamps his feet like a kid throwing a tantrum under the punishing spray of cold water.

 

“Hey, watch it. You’re going to slip and crack your head open,” Jongdae scolds. But thanks to his bright smile and the way he wraps his arms around Yixing’s neck to pull their heads closer, Jongdae's admonishment feels more performative than anything. As they kiss and run their hands through each other’s wet hair, the water finally turns as warm as the heat emanating from their skin. Their hands roam everywhere but it doesn't escape Yixing's notice that Jongdae keeps coming back to his stomach, reverently tracing his fading scars.

 

“I’m so glad you’re safe and whole,” Jongdae murmurs, quietly enough that Yixing wonders if he was even meant to hear it. “I don’t ever want you to get hurt like that again. You’re mine. Only I can hurt you. Only I can take care of you.” Yixing is unable to stop himself from whimpering both from Jongdae's possessiveness and how good the way Jongdae's rubbing his cock feels.

 

His eyes fallen close, Yixing can only tell that Jongdae has grabbed the body wash from the noisy sound of bottles loudly knocking into each other before falling to the floor. Yixing’s eyes flutter open in surprise when his bottom lip gets caught between Jongdae’s teeth mid-kiss. Eyes glinting, Jongdae pushes Yixing gently until his back is pressing up against the wall. He sucks on Yixing’s lip as he lines their cocks together with a slippery hand. Yixing doesn't know where the moans are coming from but it makes his hips buck.

 

Jongdae gives their cocks a few quick strokes in time with his mouth before settling his hands on Yixing’s hips. The first roll of his hips is agonizingly slow. Slow enough for Yixing to be distracted from the sting of Jongdae’s bite, but too slow to be properly pleasurable. Yixing’s moan is unsteady and muffled when Jongdae builds up his thrusts, his hands shifting to grab Yixing's ass, pulling them closer and adding more friction to their cocks. Jongdae seems to like the sound because he releasing Yixing’s swollen lip to drag his teeth down Yixing’s neck, knowing full well how sensitive Yixing is around that area.

 

Too quickly, Yixing finds himself on the brink of completion. He throws his head back into the wall and whines from the mixture of pain on the back of his head and the tightly coiled pleasure in his groin. Jongdae doesn’t give him time to think before he’s telling, no, demanding Yixing to come, the authority in his voice pushing Yixing over the edge. He barely notices Jongdae following right after, too preoccupied with the rush of confusing emotions washing over him as he struggles to remember who and where he is.

 

Yixing doesn’t realize he’s crying until Jongdae's nuzzling him lovingly while making soft shushing noises. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It's okay to cry. Let it all out. I promise you, it’s all gonna be okay,” he assures Yixing in a sweet voice that simultaneously tears him apart and pieces him back together. Yixing doesn’t know how else to deal with the helpless sobs wracking through his body so he lets Jongdae’s steady presence hold him up, emotionally and physically.

 

“Darling,” Jongdae says, his breath all too steady and clear over the sound of rushing water. As though he can read Yixing’s mind, Jongdae reaches behind him and turns the shower setting to a softer stream. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you have to face it sooner or later. Will you let me in?”

 

Yixing wants to refuse and maybe yell at Jongdae for rendering him weak just for this purpose. But because Jongdae doesn’t push for an answer, Yixing’s able to think about his request rationally. Of course, he has to at least let Jongdae know what had happened to him. To the team. To Hansol. But before he has to deal with the suffocating despair killing him from the inside the way the witch could only dream of doing, there’s something else Yixing has to get out of the way.

 

“I..I drank… I drank Seungwan’s blood,” Yixing says, forcing the words out even as his teeth clench together to keep them in without his permission.

 

Jongdae’s eyes widen in surprise then squints in confusion. Feeling ashamed, Yixing tries to look away,  but Jongdae stops him by grabbing his chin. “Hey, hey. I don’t really get it, but okay?”

 

“It’s not,” Yixing says, shaking his head both to show his disagreement and to make Jongdae let go. “To be honest, I’d rather die then and there if I couldn’t get yours. But I couldn’t let Renjun and Ten lose someone else so soon and her blood was the only thing that could keep me alive.”

 

“That’s good, isn’t it? I don’t know why you’re so upset. Seungwan didn’t say anything and neither did Renjun.”

 

Jongdae’s dumbfounded expression is so adorable that it has Yixing’s heart squeeze in affection. Jongdae looks completely open about his confusion but also ready to accept any explanation Yixing has to give. Yixing wants to laugh it all off and go back to kissing Jongdae senseless but he's the one brought them into this conversation so he has to see it through.

 

“Renjun probably hoped that you’d never find out and Seungwan doesn’t know what it means for vampires to drink from each other. I swear, Jongdae, it’s only because she shares some of your DNA. Her blood contains some properties that make yours so special. If your parents were with us and if they were immortal then maybe it could also work. It’s all a gamble really. I don’t think Renjun actually had anything more than guesswork to go on but I completely understand that it was a...desperate...situation...” His words trail off after Jongdae surprises him with a quick peck on the lips.

 

“Yixing, you’re babbling, you know?” Jongdae says with a fond smile that makes Yixing bristle.

 

He keeps it in because now isn’t the time to argue if he was being cute or not. “Jongdae,” Yixing shoots back with a similar, but ultimately less condescending, tone because he knows he’s still in the wrong, “It’s not like I want you to get mad but this is serious, okay? It’s like I had sex with your sister.” He braces himself for Jongdae to explode in rage, or look so hurt that it destroys Yixing from the inside. But all Jongdae does is burst into peals of laughter.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae says, wheezing as he tries to collect himself. “But you do know Seungwan’s also gay? I’m pretty sure she told you this herself.” Yixing is completely unamused by this and it must have shown on his face because Jongdae stops giggling and clears his throat sheepishly. “I meant that it’s just a wild concept to wrap my head around.”

 

“It was a really difficult decision for me to make, Jongdae,” Yixing says, unable to keep the petulant whine out of his voice. He clears his throat and repeats himself, more firmly this time and pointedly ignoring the way Jongdae’s cheeks are puffing up from holding in another round of laughter. Like a balloon deflating but with less noise, Jongdae lets out his breath slowly.

 

“I’m sorry, babe. But look at it this way: at least that’s one thing off your mind?” The expectant look on Jongdae's face reminds Yixing that he’s still waiting for an answer and he’s not about to let Yixing change the subject so easily.

 

“Okay,” Yixing says, reaching for Jongdae’s hands before closing his eyes. He’s ready for it but when Jongdae’s thoughts start to rears its head through the haze of Yixing’s overwhelmed mind, Yixing is unable to stop himself from putting up shields. After a lot of coaxing, Yixing lets Jongdae through his defenses so he can dive into his memories. It’s excruciating and Yixing tries to push him out a few times, but Jongdae persists.

 

Jongdae doesn’t personally know Yixing’s other progenies well and for better or for worse, Yixing never shared much with him. That doesn’t stop Jongdae from dragging specific memories of Hansol that Yixing associates with happiness, pride, and love to the forefront of his mind as if to say, “Grieve for him, but also celebrate him.” How Jongdae managed to sift through the blocks of suppressed grief crowding his thoughts to find them, Yixing doesn’t know.

 

He’s also too exhausted to question it, especially with the amount of effort it takes for him to get over multiple layers of guilt as Jongdae forces him to revisit happier memories. Like the memories of watching the seasons change from autumn to winter to spring as he waits out Ten’s complicated turning. Back then, Hansol had finally stopped blaming Yixing for his own turning, and came out of his shell after years of loaded silence to allay Yixing’s fears. It was the first time out of many soon to come that Yixing didn’t regret wanting to have a family of his own after separating from his mistress.

 

“You were a good father to him,” Jongdae whispers, resting his hand on the back of Yixing’s neck and idly playing with the hair on his nape. He lays out the memories of all the times Yixing has spent with Hansol like cards on a table. Of all the times Yixing cherished him, protected him, guided him, and allowed Hansol to be independent even when all Yixing wanted was to keep his children safe in his nest.

 

“You all knew the risks in this job. No one else would protect us from those parasites and you sure as hell don’t need to. But you still do. And you’ve raised them right to want to do the same. Not a day goes by where I don’t worry about your safety or Seungwan’s, but my gratitude for what you did for her, for people like her, is far, far, stronger. So don’t blame yourself. Don’t you dare blame yourself when it’s all those fucking monsters’ fault.” Jongdae’s fingers relax from the stiff grip he had Yixing’s hair in during his impassioned speech.

 

Jongdae’s words are made stronger by the fact that he had never shared this sentiment with Yixing. During whole time they’ve known each other, Jongdae has always treated Yixing’s job with polite contempt. He only supported Yixing's career, or lack of it, begrudgingly and keeps trying to push him to find a more stable job. It lights a fire in Yixing that melts away his despair and turns his anger into fuel for it to burn brighter.

 

“What would I do without you?” Yixing says at the tail end of a shaky laugh.

 

“Nothing good, I assure you,” Jongdae says lightly and presses a quick kiss on the side of Yixing’s head. “For instance, here you are making it difficult for me to grab the soap when all I want to do is wash the smell of death you dared to bring home.”

 

Yixing laughs as he disentangles himself from Jongdae’s hold so he could grab the discarded bottle of body wash. “I love being dirty with you, though,” he half-jokes as he watches Jongdae squirt some of the liquid into his palm.

 

“Sure, but I want your asshole clean for when I eat you out later,” Jongdae deadpans, his hands a blur as he lathers up the foam. Yixing’s jaw goes slack and Jongdae raises an eyebrow impatiently at him. “Well?”

 

“I love you,” Yixing blurts out. “You complete me.”

 

Instead of accepting his romantic declaration at face value, Jongdae rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “Hurry up and give me your ass, Zhang. I’m getting nervous about next month’s water bill.”

 

“Why don’t you just take what’s already yours?” Yixing challenges, anticipation zipping through his body like lightning. He finds Jongdae’s pragmatism endearing but he likes riling him up even more. Yixing only has a second or two to smirk in triumph when Jongdae’s eyes narrow dangerously, fully intending to shut Yixing up and make good on his words.

 

"I love you," Yixing whispers in between kisses.

 

"I know."

 

"I'll protect you," Yixing promises. He hisses when Jongdae sinks his teeth into his neck, then covers the tender skin with slow and luxurious licks.

 

"I know." Yixing doesn't ask Jongdae if he's just humoring him. As long as Yixing's still alive, he'll prove himself to Jongdae.

 

"Stop overthinking and just let me take care of you."

 

Yixing chortles. "Okay, my darling."

 

"I swear to god, you make my life so hard."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are great and comments are even better! But if you want to support me more, check out [my tumblr post](https://flopyxing.tumblr.com/post/167544835841/fic-comms) for more info!


End file.
